


High Fashion

by Quefish



Series: When an Angel and a Demon Get Silly [15]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), Crowley is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crowley is a fashion influencer, Fluff and Crack, Hats, Humans are Gullible, Silly hats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quefish/pseuds/Quefish
Summary: Crowley is bored and decides a little mischief is in order.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: When an Angel and a Demon Get Silly [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644778
Comments: 29
Kudos: 76





	High Fashion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poorlyformed (cathybites)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/gifts).



Crowley walked through the convention confidently, knowing all eyes were on him. He had been bored out of his mind since the world hadn’t ended and he was getting that itchy feeling of too much energy and no outlet for it. Fashion shows were practically cheating, but had the bonus of making Aziraphale laugh later. 

He was standing at the bar, waiting for that first brave soul to approach him. A woman had been eyeing him, and the hat, for ten minutes, drifting slowly closer and he finally looked at her and smiled. She gave a small gasp and smiled back. _”Gotcha.”_

~~

“I have to say, when I first saw the hat, I thought it was a joke!” The human woman, Thelma, had shared a couple of drinks with her new Best Fashion Friend, and was now finally commenting on the hat that Crowley was wearing. 

Crowley gasped, feigning offense. “A joke? How dedicated to a joke would I have to be to wear something like _this_ , _here_? With the big name designers and influencers walking around?! Dead man walking, me!”

One or two people walking by slowed and started to listen, obviously wanting to be an influencer who got a hot tip.

“Oh, absolutely, that’s the reason I figured it out. Anthony, you are … “ She waved a hand in a sweeping motion, trying to come up with a word. “ … you, you just … _are_.”

“That I am, Thel, that I am.” He sipped at his drink, waiting. 

“Ok, so what is it, what does it mean, and how do I get one?” 

Crowley smirked into his glass before turning a wide smile on his friend and the four or five that were loitering nearby trying not to be obvious. He spoke loudly enough to carry. “See, it’s like this, I contacted my favorite designer, you wouldn’t see him here, he only makes one of a kind pieces for a select few clientele because he designs for the joy of seeing his creations out in the wild, not for his name. But this idea of his was so good, I just had to, Thel, I had to. So, I talked him into letting me practically _give_ his idea away, if you can believe that. ‘Ziraph’, I said. ‘Ziraph, a few hundred quid from the right people, and you’d be able to look around and get that joy all the time!”

“Ziraph, Ziraph … you know, I think I have heard of him! I had no idea, though, that he was such a pure soul.” She sighed with a smile, missing Crowley’s huffed chuckle at her claim. “Creates because it makes him happy, willing to … only a few hundred? My goodness, that’s an absolute steal compared to everything else here!” 

“I know! And he already told me to donate whatever I get, so it’ll all be going to children’s charities. Won’t hit my hands, or his, at all.” Crowley pulled out his phone nonchalantly, one of those fancy card readers attached to the top. By now, there were at least ten people, no longer even pretending not to listen and they were all ready to buy. He smiled at Thelma again, guilelessly.

“Kind and a philanthropist?! Sold. Now, tell me all about it.”

Crowley told her that part of the reason it was so unique was because it was handmade by the wearer. Ziraph simply knew Anthony well enough to send him a box of materials of things that made Anthony happy and directions on how to assemble. By this time, he had quite an audience, a number of them already had a credit card in their hand. He pulled up the website of a charity, and while his customers entered their information and made the donation, he kept notes on things the wearer liked best and assured them that a box would be shipped to them in no time. 

~~~~~

Aziraphale stared disbelievingly at the scene in front of him. He’d seen the strangest hat a week ago, and thought it was a prank, some sort of club having a laugh. But then he’d seen another. And another. Surely they were ridiculous but there was still a fun whimsy about them that made him happy. And the wearers were obviously happy as well, so he simply smiled at each similar but unique hat. 

But now, there were two people in his shop, arguing over the fact that their hats had gotten tangled together. Sticks smacked together and strings spun around making knots. 

“You’ve got your whisk in my stethoscope!”

“You’ve got your tongue depressor in my cupcake!”

“Now, now, ladies, allow me to help?” They looked at him skeptically. “Binding books, I’ve got quite the eye for delicate work.” He had to de-escalate the situation when he saw how agitated they were becoming and that posed a risk to his books. A quick little bit of magic later, and the women were each walking out of the shop happy.

Crowley came in, chuckling behind his hand after the women passed him. Aziraphale knew that look too well and put his hands on his hips. “The hats are yours.”

He delivered the line so flat that Crowley couldn’t help but laugh freely. He eventually caught his breath and told Aziraphale the tale of the hat. Aziraphale rolled his eyes fondly as Crowley pulled out his phone. “Here’s the prototype.”

Aziraphale looked and catalogued everything that Crowley had put on display as important to him. “Crowley, I see you have a duster in your hat, similar to the one I use here?”

Crowley’s cheeks pinked. “S’just a duster.”

“And a sword similar to mine?”

“Nothing like yours, would have been dangerous to walk around on fire.”

“And an angel with conspicuously curly hair?”

“Yes, it’s you, happy?” Crowley sighed as Aziraphale leaned in and kissed his cheek with a smile. 

“Very.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: [PoorlyFormedArt](https://twitter.com/poorlyformedart/status/1306622427980496899) Please go give love! 


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